Shattered Glass

When I first heard about nervous system regulation I thought, “that sounds nice but I’m not interested.” Who wants to spend all their time feeling steady and smooth and regulated?

May 15, 2026

The Mother Tree at the river house that saved me, along with my emotional support dragon, Cosmo.

When I first heard about nervous system regulation I thought, “that sounds nice but I’m not interested.” Who wants to spend all their time feeling steady and smooth and regulated? Not a chaos addict, excitement addict, and all around addict-addict like me. OH POOR NAIVE LITTLE CHILD. I didn’t know the hell my nervous system wrought—or even what it felt like to be truly regulated. I didn’t know I was in survival mode because survival mode was what I’d always known.

Reckoning with my chaos has been a decades long process of 12-step recovery in every arena of the human psyche, the extraordinary wisdom and kindness of others, and oceans of grace as I find my alignment with my body, my heart, my gut, my spirit, my soul, my mind.

I’ve come to not only recognize a regulated nervous system but covet it madly.

This week I had two enlightening experiences while moving out of the townhouse where I lived for the winter and into the river house where I’ll live for the summer. The first day of moving was smooth and spacious—each task rolling effortlessly into the next with ease and joy until my mission was complete. I celebrated with leftover Thai and a long soak in a hot salt bath. Sounds amazing right? WELL. We all know pride cometh before the fall.

The second move day was a complete and total clusterfuck. I received upsetting news early in the morning that pulsed heavy in my chest through my 2.5 hour work call. These calls take all of me— the architecture of my new s-corporation, shadow work, spirituality, spreadsheets, and sticky icky admin.

When I started to feel really rocky, it dawned on me I’d forgotten to take my meds for two days in a row. With the decks thus stacked, I made the most devastating mistake of all. I forgot to eat lunch and then I left the house.

Suffice it to say the hurricane of chaos picked up speed from there. I took multiple wrong turns on the highway and then shattered a drinking glass under my car, a thousand splinters sparkling in asphalt. At the storage unit, I yanked my door past its sticking point and heard glass shatter—for the second time that afternoon. A thousand splinters glittering on cement, a snapshot of my shattered nervous system.

At this point I knew I needed to quarantine myself in what my friend Sarah calls the metaphysical ICU. After resting, eating, and taking a long hot soak in a salt bath, I visited my chiropractor. After the usual adjustment he pelted my palms and wrists with one of those mysterious chiropractor things. What are you doing? I asked. Opening your flow, he said. I hadn’t told him it was closed but clearly there’d been no need.

I went straight to bed that night and woke up obedient to my nervous system. I spent the day under the healing green arms of a Mother Tree. What did my belly, heart, mind, spirit need to feel steady, calm, and whole? I have a bag full of spiritual medicine, and healing tools—I just have to remember to use them.

Join me for a special FREE/ DONATION BASED Community workshop:

Writing Fire Sacred Circle on ZOOM!

In these intimate and transformative writing activations, we gather in sacred space to awaken the power of our handwriting, our voices, and our stories. Through writing rituals, guided reflection, and simple energy work, we access the subterranean story network—the deep place within where memory, intuition, and truth live beneath the surface. Through the power of community and connection we create a heat and an energy that allows writing to flow freely through our pens. We may discover not only the story we came to write, but the guidance we most needed to receive. Join us around the writing fire.

Fri, May 22, 2026 // 12:00 – 1:00 PM EST// Zoom // $0-$44